Castleton, Mam Tor, and The Great Ridge.

Introducing Simon and Chris to Castleton and The Great Ridge.

Today started off with an interesting intellectual and philosophical challenge or conundrum: certainly something that's had me thinking all day.

I was looking out of the window as the train approached Sheffield Station and noticed the words 'Imagine waking up tomorrow and all music had disappeared' painted onto a pipeline which spanned the river. A very interesting, and disturbing, idea indeed.

I went walking with Chris and Simon from Leeds today, catching the bus to Bamford Station bus turnaround where I met up with them. We drove in the car, parking up on the abandoned road, as near to Mam Tor as we could. They were both impressed with the pinnacles on the rims of Winnats Pass on our way there.

We walked a few yards along the road and then took the path leading up to Mam Nick and then up the steps to the summit of Mam Tor. The weather wasn't ideal, but we knew what to expect; the forecast was for sunny intervals, showers, and a cold wind...and that's precisely what we got - with a bit of hail and sleet thrown in for good measure too.

We took our time walking along the ridge, frequently stopping to admire the limited views obscured by the murk. Chris tried especially hard when we reached Lose Hill.

We carefully worked our way down to Hope where we sat and ate our sandwiches on a bench next to the car park; it was raining, but not too heavily.

The next section of the walk was along the river to Castleton; stopping for about ten minutes at the location where the path crosses the railway line which leads to Hope Cement Works. The amber lights were flashing, indicating that a train was due. Simon is especially interested in trains and railways, and was hoping to see a freight train go along this rarely used section of track: after waiting for ten minutes though he gave up hope and we continued with our walk; soon arriving at Castleton.

Neither Simon nor Chris had visited Castleton before. Chris soon decided that his wife would love the place with its blue john jewellery shops, gift and craft shops, and cafés; and Simon, thinking it might be a while until he's here again, relished every moment; going in most of the shops, and exploring all of the narrow lanes.

Being wary of the time, we reluctantly left Castleton and walked across the fields towards the abandoned road; caused by the ongoing landslip at the foot of Mam Tor. When we reached Odin Mine we gave Simon the opportunity to cut his walk short and wait for Chris and myself to pick him up in the car. He said that this was one of the most difficult walks he'd been on, and was very tired; but wanted to continue. We didn't have far to go at this point, but parts of the abandoned road are quite steep; and the strong wind was blowing straight in our faces.

It was a short drive into Castleton, where I was dropped off at the bus station: when the bus reached Sheffield it went a different route in the city centre because the vehicle is a different colour. I had to get off at Arundel Gate and walk down the steep hill to reach the railway station.

I had another piece of equipment failure today: my anorak split along the left elbow. I've cut both sleeves down to the elbows now; I don't know if any such garment as a short-sleeved anorak actually exists though.

Castleton, The Great Ridge, and Hope.

I've done this walk several times before, apart from some short sections of footpaths near to Castleton, and it's one of my favourite routes;  however, I've not done it for over two years.

The ground was mostly frozen today and so a lot easier walking - I did need to put on my ice grippers for a couple of short stretches though.

The weather was okay, nothing more, mainly cloudy with occasional brief light snow showers. The sun did pop out for a few minutes illuminating Kinder Scout, the highest part of the Peak District, just as I was on the Great Ridge and in an excellent position to take some photographs.

At Castleton I walked down the track which starts at the side of the house with what I always imagine to be a stone circle, or henge, in its garden - it's probably just a random arrangement of old gateposts, but maybe one of the owners is, or was a Druid.

I was soon walking across open country with spectacular views of Mam Tor in front of me. This is the favourite of several photographs I took. It tells a story I suppose: the sheep must have been hungry, they followed every hiker thinking they were the farmer coming to feed them. (Please note: I am not a shepherd.)

I continued along the path to Odin Mine, and then the abandoned road, which I walked up in its entirety until reaching a footpath which eventually leads up to the summit of Mam Tor. Getting to the top was easy, the steps presented no problems, but descending along the ridge towards Hollins Cross was slippery, and so I put on my ice grippers for the first time.

The views from the ridge were as enjoyable as ever, even though the visibility wasn't particularly good. It was busy up there, as it always seems to be, and to be honest, I was enjoying watching the other walkers as much as the scenery.

During the descent from Lose Hill, at the eastern end of the ridge, there was a small area of sheet ice which required my ice grippers. One person had slipped just before I got there, and others were obviously struggling, so I smashed up the ice as best I could with my spikes....and my eighteen and a half stone.

I only had five minutes to wait for the bus at Hope. When I arrived at the railway station in Sheffield the train services were in a mess, due to both the continuing problems caused by the landslip at Hatfield Main Colliery, and scheduled engineering works in the Hope Valley.

Trans Pennine Express services were particularly badly affected; they seemed to be only able to run a shuttle service between Sheffield and Doncaster. Before the train set off the guard announced that it was the Trans Pennine Express Service running from Sheffield to Doncaster. I muttered to myself, but obviously loud enough for the woman sitting next to me, 'Yeah, but where are the Pennines?' She looked at me, stood up, and walked further down the carriage.

Yet again my Asperger's syndrome has done me no favours; I try to be jocular and friendly...but it always seems to backfire on me. At least I don't get paranoid though; there were police officers at both Meadowhall and Doncaster stations; but I knew that they weren't there for me.

Castleton and Winnats Pass.

Unusually there weren't many people on the 272 bus service to Castleton this morning. The driver was new to the route, and when we got to Bradwell he needed to ask the passengers for directions: since there were only two of us sitting downstairs, and I was at the front of the bus, I volunteered.

Of course it was his first time driving along Bridge Street in the village, which has a very narrow section; here's a short video, not taken by me though.

I have done all of the route of today's walk at various times; some sections in the opposite direction though, but about half of the walk hasn't been featured on the blog yet.

Although it was a lovely sunny day, Castleton was in the shade of the nearby hills when I got off the bus; as it probably is for most of the day at this time of year. I took the footpath across the fields towards Winnats Pass. There were some lovely views; the first photograph was taken from here, and here's another one taken from a few hundred yards further on.

There are some spectacular limestone pinnacles at the sides of Winnats Pass; I took a few photographs, but because the path at the side of the road was in shadow all the way to the summit, none of them was really any good. If ever a place has an appropriate name it's Winnats Pass; the name is a corrupted form of 'Windy Gates' - and that was certainly the case today...the narrow gorge seemed to be acting as a very efficient wind tunnel.

At the summit it was brilliant sunshine and so I took a path across some fields and found a warm, sheltered spot to eat my sandwiches.

After my rest for refreshments I walked for a couple of minutes and then could see the abandoned section of the main road between Sheffield and Chapel-en-le-Frith, caused by the regular landslips that occur on the adjacent hill of Mam Tor.

It's quite dramatic.

It was then a steady walk down into Castleton; but first I made a short detour to the Odin Mine. The narrow boulder-strewn ravine has always been blocked by vegetation on previous visits; but not today. It was a bit of a challenge...and would no doubt be a great adventure for a young boy.

I fancied some fish and chips when I reached Castleton; but as usual, the queue reached out onto the street, and so I decided that I didn't have time.